


Strangers

by candymax



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2019-01-07 06:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candymax/pseuds/candymax
Summary: A twist of fate leads Emma and Neal to Storybrooke to face their pasts and break the curse ten years early. Discontinued.





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is discontinued and will not update further. It was originally posted to FFN in 2013/2014 and has been backdated to the date of its original upload. It's been crossposted here as of 9/30/17 for archival purposes.

The forests around the town of Storybrooke, Maine had always had somewhat of a mysterious air to them. It was never a painfully obvious one, however; but a subtle and fleeting one that made itself known in the minds of its visitors at the most unexpected times. It had been that way for as long anybody could remember.

People driving through its long, winding roads were not a particularly uncommon event, although to them, this was just another Maine forest that one was forced to go through in order to get to somewhere else. Those people would drive in and drive out, too wrapped up in their own noise and hurry to notice anything unusual at all.

But once in a great while, the rare, imaginative soul would pass through the forest in the dead of night, pause for a moment, and allow their mind to wander. To wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to this forest than meets the eye. But the instinct that something was off here was always dismissed. It was just an ordinary forest, they convinced themselves. Nothing to see here.

Their set ideas of what was real and what was fantasy were so strong that, should those expectations be tested, they tended to ignore what was right in front of them and refuse to do anything about it for fear of being called insane. Such was the mystery of Storybrooke, Maine. Because of the lack of belief in this land without magic, the evil queen's curse easily rendered the town undetectable to outsiders.

So, for over almost eighteen years, nobody came in, nobody left, nobody aged, and nothing changed. The residents of the other world known as the Enchanted Forest remained in their prison of time, robbed of their happy endings and forced to live as a mere shadow of their true selves. They were all puppets, blindly following the Evil Queen's orders without so much as a complaint as they relived the same day over and over. They were walking through a haze and didn't even know it. And nobody noticed anything wrong.

But that was all about to change very soon. A twist of fate had caused their only hope to return to Storybrooke, several years before she was prophesied to. The savior had found them earlier than even the powerful Dark One had predicted. The Final Battle between good and evil had begun at last.

But she didn't even know it.


	2. Escapes

Neal's stride was quickened and purposeful, as opposed to his usual lazy stroll, as his sneakers pounded the ground with every step. His hands were jammed firmly into the pockets of his jacket, clutching onto the envelope hidden inside them for dear life. Looking over his shoulder often, he kept an eye out for any other person that could possibly be lurking in the shadows of the dimly lit Portland, Oregon alleyways in which he was currently making his way through.

He hadn't been this jumpy while carrying out a heist in a long time, he wasn't exactly a newbie when it came to thievery, but this one was the exception. It wasn't exactly one of the shoplifting sprees that he was more accustomed to; there was twenty thousand dollars on the line. Twenty thousand dollars' worth in cash was at stake, which he had gained from some very expensive-and very stolen-watches.

If anything went wrong with the plan, it could result in him, and possibly his girlfriend (who had helped retrieve the watches from a train station, therefore helping him get away with the theft) getting put in jail for a very long time, all for a crime he committed. No pressure, though. No pressure at all.

At that point, however, everything was running smoothly. He had fenced off the watches and gotten the payment in the form of the stack of bills in the envelope, and was now headed back to meet Emma at an agreed spot.

A hint of a smile appeared on his face as he thought of Emma. They had talked about running away together to Tallahassee to change their identities and settle down for a change, as opposed to the cross-country stealing adventures they'd been going on for over a year now. The meeting spot wasn't far, all he had to do was make it there without incident and he'd practically be home free.

He became set on edge at one moment, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that he was being watched. He had known that feeling before, and he also knew it wouldn't end well for him if he ignored it. So he craned his head to either side, while still continuing to walk forward, until something caught his eye as he made a turn to the left.

His heart immediately jumped into his throat as he noticed the unmistakable shadowy figure of another person standing behind him. It was too dark to see the stranger's face, and swirling, white fog further blocked his vision of him, making the man look all the more intimidating. Neal honestly didn't care who he was, he just hoped to God that the guy wasn't looking for him.

His fears were confirmed as the man began to move in his direction, then proceed to break into a run.

Panic struck Neal like a bolt of lightning, causing him to speed up into a sprint, losing all hope of trying to go unnoticed. The only thing that was going through his head were thoughts of desperately trying to escape the person chasing him who was most likely a police officer, or even worse, a federal officer.

The more he sped up, the more the stranger sped up, he noted to himself. They seemed to be somewhat evenly matched in running speed, although the stranger seemed to be gaining ground on him. Or was that just his imagination?

Neal mentally cursed to himself as he turned down another, smaller alley, one he knew led to the meeting place. One that had with a tall fence standing in his way. Just what he needed.

Not planning on giving up, he grabbed onto the fence, tiny bits of rust rubbing off onto his hands. He then began to scale the fairly-tall barrier, using the metal chain-links as footholds. By the time he reached the top, the other man had just reached the very bottom.

Neal swung his leg over the top and onto the other side, trying his best to avoid the barbed wire strategically placed at the top in an attempt to prevent such escapes.

Jumping off the fence and landing awkwardly on the other side, he scrambled to his feet and, not wasting a second, took off yet again.

He turned down a third side alley, an even smaller and narrower one, one in which he had to feel his way along the walls to move forward at all. It was pitch black in that place, being only a narrow gap between two buildings. He felt his way along, trying not to step on any of the trash bags or bits of broken glass that littered the ground.

A light at the end of the alley became visible, marking its end and gradually growing closer as he moved forward until it overpowered the darkness entirely.

After reaching the end, Neal glanced around, adrenaline still pumping through his veins at a mile a minute from the chase. He didn't see the man anywhere. I've lost him, he thought. But he had to move fast, before he was found again.

He recognized his surroundings as the meeting place, audibly sighing in relief as he caught sight of Emma's blonde ponytail.

Emma leaned up against the tall city building, staring at the tiny screen of her phone and trying not to think of all the possible ways their plan could fail, most of which ended with someone going to jail.

She had been expecting Neal's voice to come out of the device after she dialed the number, but instead only got a robotic voice telling her "The number you are calling is no longer in service. You have reached an error..."

She snapped the phone shut and stuffed it away, scoffing at it. "It sure is an error."

At that moment, she saw a figure dart out from between two buildings and come running towards her after pausing for a moment, panting and out of breath. Emma immediately felt relief as he came into view.

"Hey! Where were you?" she asked him, more worried than mad.

"Sorry. Some guy was chasing me. I barely managed to get away from him."

"Some guy? Neal, did you know who it was? Was it a fed?"

"No idea. All I know is on my way back over here, this guy comes out of nowhere and starts chasing me. I panicked and ran away. I think I lost him, but I'm not a hundred percent sure. "

"Well, we'd better get out of here before anyone finds us. Did you get it?" said Emma in a hushed tone, even though she couldn't see anyone else that might possibly overhear them.

Neal pulled a thick, white envelope from his pocket, the green bills inside visible to nobody else but her. "Oh, I got it. Twenty grand, right here."

Emma's lips slowly spread into a grin, her worry momentarily subsiding, and she planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Let's go."

As they jogged away towards the car, Emma thought that this should've been an amazing moment for her, one she never thought could happen. She finally had someone that wanted her, that loved her. She was going to Tallahassee.

But Neal's story of being chased down an alley had unnerved her. The chance of something going wrong was too high for her liking. Her happiness was edged by a gnawing nervousness as they climbed into the Bug, also known as their car, and drove off into the night.


	3. Entrances

Two Months Later

A shiver ran through Neal's bones, chilling him to the core despite the old, brown jacket that hung on his shoulders, as a particularly strong draft blew through the car. He wanted to cross his arms to capture any remaining warmth, but he couldn't. He was driving, after all, and he reminded himself that it was much colder and windier outside than it was inside the tiny car.

He took a hand off the steering wheel to adjust one of the knobs next to him, in an attempt to turn on the heating system. It was a futile effort, and he knew it, absolutely nothing changed. It was still freezing.

He didn't know why he had bothered to try in the first place. That heater had been acting up for weeks, blowing out cold air where warm air should have came. He had got to get that fixed soon...winter was coming, and it would be even colder where they were going. He guessed had come to take the heating and air conditioning technology in this world for granted over the years.

He bet it wasn't this cold in Florida right now. Heck, it was never cold in Florida, right? Wasn't it supposed to be sunny and eighty degrees all year round or something? (Or at least, that's how travel-agency commercials on television seemed to portray it. ) Probably not, but still...

He wished he was there right now, on a beach somewhere instead of driving down some road in the middle of the night in...well, he wasn't sure of his exact location. All he knew was that he'd crossed the Maine state border a few hours ago.

Turning off the faulty car heater, he slumped back in his seat and returned his focus to the seemingly endless highway ahead of him. His eyelids were heavy and drooping, and he knew he was going to have to stop somewhere soon for the night.

Only...there was one problem. There was nowhere to stop. No towns in sight, no inn, nowhere. There weren't even any cars in sight, no matter how far ahead or behind he looked. That came off as a bit strange to him.

There were no signs of civilization anywhere at all, it was practically a ghost town. In fact, the whole atmosphere felt like something out of a cheesy Halloween movie. The fog that obscured his vision of the upcoming roadway, the sounds of the wind rustling through the trees, the lack of any light source, everything. It creeped him out a bit, to be honest.

He was alone, except for Emma of course, but even she was fast asleep, sprawled out across the backseat behind him. Neal could see her blonde curls spread across the seat as she breathed softly. The birthday girl herself-she was officially eighteen years old as of today-was oblivious to the world around her.

He resigned to the fact that they might be sleeping in the car tonight if he couldn't find somewhere to stay soon. It certainly wouldn't be the first time. Ever since the watch incident, they had been trying to make it across the United States border in the shortest possible amount of time, which meant there wasn't always time to search for a motel. Besides, the funds were becoming dangerously low at a dangerously rapid pace.

Their only source of cash flow was the money from the stolen watches kept hidden in an envelope in the trunk of the car, right underneath the cardboard box containing Emma's baby blanket and a few other items. Or what was left of it, rather. The majority of the twenty thousand dollars had been quickly blown over the last two months on things like food and the cost of getting a clean VIN number on the car and changing their identities-Neal and Emma Sheppard were their official names now, despite the fact that they weren't technically married. Their original last names were most likely still on a wanted poster somewhere, and it was too dangerous to keep them.

Tallahassee was also too dangerous to stay in, and Emma's disappointment, it became out of the question before they even made it there. And to think, they had been so close to a chance at a happy ending before having to run yet again.

Neal was tired of running.

But their chosen destination was a large city, and the cops would find them for sure if they stayed, leading to them being put behind bars. And he wasn't about to let Emma go to jail for a crime he committed, and Emma sure didn't want to go there either. He'd messed up her life enough as it was.

Things had gone downhill shortly before their supposed arrival to their new home, towards the very end of the long drive from Portland, one they had taken in the exact same car in which they first met (it was only fitting, after all).

He had gone into a grocery store to pick up food, when he saw a wanted poster tacked to a bulletin board, amongst several others.

It had his name on it. Hers, too. How they had figured out about her involvement in the crime, he had no idea. His best guess was that somebody had tipped off the cops and told them to look at the footage from security cameras taken at the train station where she had retrieved the watches from the locker. Who that person was or how they knew so much, he again had no idea. He really shouldn't have ignored the whole "being chased down an alley by some guy" thing as much as he did. But he and Emma were set on going to Tallahassee, and he had tried desperately to do so despite the red flags popping up in every direction.

No matter how much he racked his brains, his mind always came up blank. With them always moving from place to place, he hadn't had the time to make any friends-or enemies, for that matter. Nobody should have known about their supposedly foolproof plan. It made no sense whatsoever.

They had quickly formed a last-minute backup plan, however. Neal was going to go ahead with his earlier plan to escape to Canada, only this time Emma was going with him. Maybe there they could finally settle down. It wouldn't be near a beach, but it would be home.

That was provided they could make it out of the country without being caught, however, which was not an easy thing to do. So the last two months had been spent fleeing the police, making their way up the East Coast, living out of the car once more and flinching whenever a siren was so much as heard in the distance.

The sleeping in the car or in a different inn every night , the occasional fight between them, their stealing bits of food from stores to save money well after they had decided they didn't want to steal anymore, those were all his fault. All because he had robbed a jewelry store in Phoenix, well before he had even met Emma.

Why he had stolen them in the first place, he didn't exactly know. Maybe it was because he was sick of his job, maybe because he had grown up poor and never even dreamed about having those kinds of expensive things, or maybe he just had awful impulse control. He remembered how he had been standing there in that store, fingers twitching, and thinking, Nobody will catch me, I can get away with this...

He had resisted stealing them twice already. The third time's the charm, he supposed, as he had caved in and stolen the watches after all. Not exactly one of his best decisions. He hadn't done anything like it before or since, having stolen only what he needed to survive. And also maybe a cheap trinket that struck his fancy every once in a while, but that was besides the point.

However, the watch money had been their only money source on their little road trip. It seemed ironic-that the money from the stolen watches was the only thing that could possibly help him get away with stealing the watches.

The sight of a town welcome sign on the side of the road, coming out of the swirling clouds of fog in front of him and becoming caught in the car's headlights brought Neal out of his memories and into the present time.

"Welcome to Storybrooke, Maine!" it read in an old-fashioned script.

Relief went through Neal. Maybe they wouldn't be spending Emma's birthday in the car tonight, he thought, as the sign whizzed out of his view and became instead visible only in the rearview window.

He turned around in the seat, reaching back and shaking Emma's shoulder to wake her up, slowing down the car, but not bothering to stop it.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

She sat up immediately, a light sleeper by any means, and Neal stifled a laugh at the sight of her long, messy hair streaming in every possible direction as he turned back around to face the road.

"It's really morning already?" she yawned, pushing said hair out of her face before noticing that it was still dark outside the window of the still-moving car.

"Nah, I was kidding. Actually, it's almost midnight," he said, glancing at the glowing red numbers staring back at him from the dashboard. "I found somewhere to stay for the night, by the way. Storybrooke, Maine, it's called."

"Storybrooke? Seriously?"

The hint of joking sarcasm in her voice was easily detected in her only reply.

"Seriously," he said back.

The woods soon gave way to the main part of town as he drove, the trees on either side of the road replaced by houses and buildings.

Neal wasn't sure what to think of the town at all. At first glance, it seemed like any other American small town, if a bit of a lost-in-time one, what with the vintage cars he saw lining the streets and the worn-down buildings passing him on either side. Actually, everything seemed old-looking, worn down, and dreary. But maybe that was only how it was at night, with street lamps casting eerie white spots of light against the dark. Maybe it was less creepy in the daytime.

But there was something else about it, something he didn't like. He couldn't put his finger on why, but something felt off. It was a gut feeling of nervousness that appeared very early on. He ignored it, however, and focused on trying to find a place to stay instead of worrying about some town he knew nothing about.

Pushing the nagging thoughts to the back of his mind, Neal soon found an inn after a surprisingly small amount of searching, having just entered the town a few minutes ago. It must be that small of a town, he thought. One where everything is within a few blocks of each other.

It wasn't something he was used to seeing in the big cities.

Stopping the car in front of the building and climbing out, he heard Emma climbing out, and they soon strode up the sidewalk leading to the inn. Granny's Bed and Breakfast, it was called, according to the large sign hanging over the door.

Dead, brown leaves on the steps of the building swirled around their feet in the crisp fall wind as their shoes pounded against them.

Opening the painted wooden door and entering the inn, they were immediately greeted by an older woman. She was standing behind a counter, looking strangely awake and alert for it being almost midnight, unlike Emma and Neal with their wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and tired eyes. The woman had a look of...surprise, maybe? Pleasure? Curiosity?

"You're new here, aren't you?"

Emma spoke first. "Yeah, we just got here. We'd like a room."

"Really? Of course. Would you like a forest view or square view? Normally there's an upgrade for the square, but I can waive it just this once. We hardly ever get visitors around here. "

"Square's fine."

"Now. What are your names?"

"Emma and Neal Sheppard."

The woman jotted something down in a dusty ledger book that looked as if it hadn't been used in ages. Without looking up, she continued to speak. "How long will you be staying with us?"

"Just for tonight. We're only passing through," said Neal, handing the woman a wad of money from his pocket in which he'd removed from the envelope in the trunk earlier that night.

"Great. I'm Granny, by the way. I run this place."

Granny handed Emma an elaborately-decorated room key depicting a swan. Fitting, since the girl had shared a surname with the bird for the majority of her life.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Granny," said Neal, already beginning to turn around, toward the staircase leading up to the rooms.

The inn, like the town, had not made the best impression on him. It unsettled him, for no particular reason other than it "just did," and he was eager to leave.

No matter. They planned to do just that by morning, this town being just like all the other ones in which they'd stayed in for a night or two.

"Oh, and one more thing!" said Granny, causing him to turn around to face her again. "Welcome to Storybrooke."

...

The curse of this seemingly normal New England town was designed to be like a glass cage, trapping every single person inside it forever, unable to get in touch with the outside world or their true selves, unable to be free, unable to so much as notice that anything was wrong. The clocks always stayed frozen at 8:15, regardless of what time it was in the outside world or whether the sun was rising or setting.

On that night, on the twenty-third of October, that cage finally cracked.

In another part of town, the minute hand of the clock tower in Storybrooke's center inched forward for the very first time in eighteen years.


	4. Encounters

Neal and Emma slept like the dead that night, morning coming before they knew it. It seemed as if one minute they were entering their rented room and flopping down on the bed, and in the next minute, sunlight was streaming through the curtains on the windows.

After waking up, they left the room rather quickly, after getting dressed and taking turns in the shower. They were planning on heading out on the road early to make some good time that day.

The shower was Emma's favorite part. It felt nice to be able to take her time, and just let the warm water run down her back as opposed to sneaking into hotel rooms and constantly worrying about being caught. She would never take a relaxing shower for granted again, she thought. Ever.

Emma thought of that as Neal and she exited the inn, only giving minor pause to the fact that no other people could be seen or heard at all. That she attributed to it being a small town and there probably not being many visitors. Nothing strange there.

They got into the car, with Neal driving and Emma in the passenger seat next to him, as Neal navigated the streets of the town, hoping to find the "Leaving Storybrooke" sign.

A wrench was thrown in that idea after only a few minutes. The car, it seemed, had other plans as it drove through what was obviously the richer part of town. It decided it wanted to shut down completely, failing them now after everything it had been through.

"Oh, come on, come on, c'mon..."said Neal, growing more agitated by the second as he managed to pull the misbehaving vehicle over to the side of the road.

Emma didn't bother to mention that he had parked the thing directly in front of someone's driveway, blocking anybody who may want to get out. He'd figure it out himself. And besides, it's not like she was the perfect driver herself. She was still a teenager after all, one who had taught herself to drive only a year and a half ago, and was by no means an expert. She'd forgotten turn signals and things before, many times. Neal had teased her about it more than once.

Neal pressed his foot on the gas, as if he was willing the car to move forward, but it didn't move an inch. After letting out one final "You've got to be kidding me," he slumped back in his seat, defeated. The car had made it clear that it wasn't moving forward anytime soon.

It had chosen now of all times to act up. Just as they were about to go on their way, it had broken down completely.

Emma thought about all the times lately that she'd seen smoke coming out the back, or heard a funny noise, and how every time she'd chosen not to say anything about it. On the road, they had completely ignored it, not wanting to believe anything was wrong. Looking back, they really shouldn't have. Now they wouldn't be able to leave this stupidly-named town until it was fixed. They were stranded.

Emma usually hated to feel self-pity, but thoughts of how unfair the situation was came to her anyway. She would always be so close to a so-called "happy ending", but something always got in her way. She would get sent to a nice foster home, but would always eventually be sent away. She ran away from the system before finishing high school, but nobody would hire her to do even a minimum wage job, so she had to turn to a life of crime. Then she met Neal, and was the happiest she'd been in a long time, and then the watch incident happened. Now this. Was the universe against her or something?

Emma pushed away the thoughts and memories, telling herself that things could've gone so much worse and that she had no reason to be complaining. She could have spent her eighteenth birthday in jail instead of with Neal, but she didn't. And once they got whatever was wrong with the car fixed, maybe they could get out of the country and start over in Canada.

As Neal pulled out his phone, presumably to reach a mechanic, Emma noticed the door to the mansion-like house open, a woman coming out of it and storming down the steps and in their direction. How she could walk that fast in those high heels she wore, Emma had no idea.

She wore dark, professional clothing, dark makeup, and a very ticked-off expression.

Walking up to the car, stopping in front of it, and folding her arms, she glared. If looks could kill, then there would have been two less people in town that instant.

Emma stared up at her, pulling on her best innocent face that she'd perfected from months of stealing, and spoke in a desperate attempt to not get in trouble, even though she'd been caught red-handed.

"Hi there...is there a problem?"

The woman's glare deepened even more, which didn't seem to be humanly possible. "The problem is that you have parked your car directly in front of my home, blocking my driveway, which is in violation of traffic laws," she said, wasting no time and going directly to the point.

"The car broke down. We can't help it," said Neal, staring up at the tall woman as well and wearing the exact same fake-innocent face used before. But what made this time different from all the others was that they actually were innocent. It wasn't his fault the car broke down and he had to pull over. Or maybe it was his fault, for ignoring all the obvious signs, but that was besides the point. Not that the lady would listen to him.

The woman narrowed her eyes at him, studying the two people as if thinking of what to do with them next, before changing the subject completely. "I don't think I've seen you around here before," she said slowly.

"Well, we were just passing through for the night. We'll be leaving after the car gets out of the repair shop. You wouldn't know a good repair shop around here, would you?" asked Neal, not particularly scared by the older woman's intimidating, almost regal, appearance.

"There's Tillman's. Not too far from here," she said, clearly not wanting to continue talking to the people sitting outside her home. Neal could see her patience wearing down as she looked straight past him, tilted her head forward, and stared Emma directly in the eye, as if challenging her. "I would suggest you go there, and get your car fixed, and then leave this town, and go back to...well, wherever it is you came from. We hardly ever have outsiders come to Storybrooke, and the residents here may not like the idea of strangers coming in and disrupting the peace."

"Lady, I'm not sure what the problem is. We're not here to 'disrupt the peace' or whatever. We're not going to be a problem. We're just going to get the car fixed and then leave," said Neal. If this was what most people were like here, then he would be more than happy to. Seriously, was this woman for real?

Emma spoke from behind him. "And besides, what would you know about what every single person in the entire town would think?"

"I've been the mayor here for as long as anybody can remember. "

Emma rolled her eyes at the answer and made no effort to hide it.

"Whether you agree on my opinions or not, it doesn't change the fact that your car is parked in front of my driveway. I could call the sheriff right now and have it towed. But I won't. I will walk to my job this morning rather than drive my own car, and if that thing..." the mayor said, looking at the old car as if it was a piece of trash,"... is still there by the time I return, there will be consequences."

She then turned around and, without another word, began to walk down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, heels clacking against the cement.

"Come on, Neal, let's just get the car to the mechanic. You heard Madam Mayor. There 'will be consequences' if we don't," she said, although she was unable to keep teasing sarcasm from seeping into her voice on the last part.

Crazy mayor or not, there was still some truth to her words, which Emma didn't like to admit. They would be fined extra money if they didn't move, money they really couldn't afford to give up over something silly. They would already have to pay to fix whatever was wrong with the car as well, Emma realized. Fantastic.

"We can go into town, I guess, and get a bite to eat. Then we can find a mechanic and see if he'll send a tow truck out,"said Neal, and Emma's stomach grumbled as she remembered that she hadn't had anything to eat for breakfast that morning.

"'Kay, let's go," replied Emma. After retrieving a few more bills out of the trunk and making sure all windows and doors were locked, they left. Emma wasn't crazy about just leaving it there for the time being, but no other options were available, the car unable to be moved. And there couldn't be that many other car thieves in a town this small in the first place.

Emma reassured herself with those thoughts as she followed Neal in the same direction the mayor had gone, into what presumably led away from the rich neighborhood and into the center of town.

...

It wasn't the walking that Regina minded, for both the diner she went into before work and the town hall were only a few blocks from her house, and her black jacket and matching leather gloves helped protect her from the October chill. It was the reason why she was walking that upset her-the strangers she had encountered.

She was worried about them, to be honest, even though the thought of the mayor being worried about a couple of kids entering town was unusual.

It was no matter, she thought to herself. They'd probably be gone in a few days, never to return, leaving her to wonder exactly who they were and how they got into her seemingly undetectable town. There was only one possible explanation as to how the outsiders passed through the barrier that rendered the town invisible to all outsiders, but it was one she didn't want to consider.

Maybe they weren't outsiders at all. Maybe they belonged to the other world.

Maybe they were here to break her curse.

Come to think of it, Regina could've sworn she'd seen a bit of pre-curse Snow in the girl, in both looks and attitude. And come to think of it, it was Snow's little girl who had somehow disappeared and had escaped capture from her guards on that one fateful night all those years ago.

But she didn't want to even think of that option, and refused to think of it unless it was nescessary. Whether they were from there or not, they were still outsiders, still a possible threat, still wild cards in a game supposedly rigged in her favor. And they had to be dealt with.

The last strangers to come here had long since faded from everybody else's memory but hers. But their visit had ended in a fiasco, a subject she also disliked thinking about, and didn't think about often. Until now, that was.

The man and woman she'd never seen before in her life had to go, whether they were born in this world or the other. She couldn't afford to leave such a liability open.

If they didn't leave soon by themselves, trouble would inevitably start. And trouble was the one thing that Regina, in her current life of order and balance, hated.

Thoughts and worry occupied her head as she strode down the streets heading towards the diner. That was, until a man walking his dog headed over to her, smiling.

Regina knew exactly how this would go. The cricket, now known as Archie in this life, would comment on what a beautiful morning it was, and then she would respond that yes, it was a beautiful morning in a forced tone, and carry on her way. Just like every other day. She could picture it in her mind, crystal-clear.

"Good morning, Madame Mayor. Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

"Yes, Dr. Hopper, it is."

In the moment in which he should have carried on without another word, he didn't. Instead, he stopped in the middle of the street, gawking at something in front of him.

"The clock's moving. Guess those rusty ol' innards finally straightened themselves out. Isn't that something?"

Regina followed the cricket's eye to the nearby clock tower, only to discover that the hands now read the time 9:59.

Trying to hide all the shock and anger that bubbled up inside her, she said,"Yes, isn't that something?" to the cricket before walking away to dissuade any further attempts at conversation.

That clock should have read 8:15 , like it had every day for the last eighteen years or so. Why didn't it read 8:15?

Whatever it was, time had begun to move forward again. On the same exact day two new people entered Storybrooke. Was it a coincidence? Most likely not.

Something had changed in Storybrooke, and Regina would stop at nothing to get to the bottom of what it was.

However, one thing was made exceedingly clear to her, even more so than before.

Those two had to go.


	5. Mornings

Granny's Diner, the place was called. According to the passerby on the street that they had asked for information, it was the best, not to mention only, diner in town. They could stop there just to get something to eat before getting the car into the closest repair shop.

Finding it was easy, probably because of the size of the place. It couldn't be that hard to search out anything in a place that seemed to contain a total of three streets, unlike the maze of buildings and roads she'd seen in Portland. Not that that was a bad thing, though. It had came into view after only a few minutes of walking.

The bright signs standing both on the outside sidewalk and mounted on the diner itself that had arrows pointing out its location were also helpful.

Upon opening the door from the outside and entering the place, Emma could instantly feel eyes on her as she stepped through the door, even before she noticed any of the other people sitting there.

She could see at least one or two of the several customers there look up from their plates of food and stare directly at her and Neal from the booths, as if it was their restaurant and the two people standing just inside the door were intruders. She guessed some people really didn't want new people in town. Well, this is going to be an awkward meal, she thought as her eyes darted around the building, trying to avoid the stares, only returning her focus when most of them had returned to their food.

It was only now that Emma, while still standing there, took a look around the place. It wasn't very big, and had the look of your typical diner. Tiled floors, leather booths, waitresses bustling around with heavy-looking serving trays, the usual.

She'd been in practically a million small-town diners that looked exactly like this one did while on the road. She'd seen the same groups of regulars that went there all the time and didn't like people who weren't regulars going there before, and this one was no exception. She may have never seen Storybrooke in her life, but she'd been here before. She'd even gotten a job at a place like this at one point when she was sixteen as a waitress, but it was very, very short-lived.

The place had a bit of a lost-in-time feel to it, although Emma couldn't figure out exactly why. Something about it (the design, maybe?) felt like something older. In fact, the whole town, or at least what they've seen of it, seemed to be that way, from the old-looking buildings to the vintage cars lining the streets.

But the faint smell of sausage and eggs cooking made her mouth water, and Emma put aside all of the other things she'd noticed about the place and thought of food. When was the last time she'd eaten? Late yesterday afternoon? But wait, did a peanut butter sandwich and a birthday cupcake that Neal had bought her from the store even count as a meal? If not, then it was even longer ago.

She liked to think she could run on very little food for a long time, but she did have limits.

She was just beginning to grow impatient from standing there when a woman appeared from behind the nearby counter and leaned forward, arms resting on the hard surface.

The woman didn't appear to be much older than Emma, in her mid-twenties at the latest, and she stared at them with a curious expression from across the counter for a moment before speaking.

"Hi, I'm Ruby, I'll be your waitress. Come with me."

It was a fitting name, considering her outfit-a short skirt and top-all had at least some of the color red in them. Even her dark hair had streaks of red in it.

She came out from behind the counter and directed them to a nearby booth next to a window. As they followed her and sat down on opposite sides, she stopped to talk.

"I don't think I've seen you around here before."

"We're not from around here," replied Neal.

"That's nice! We hardly ever get visitors here. Where are you from?"

"Um...actually, right now we're...traveling the country," he said. It was partially true, at least.

"You guys must be so lucky. I've always wanted to travel the country...maybe even the world. I've never even left Storybrooke before."

That was strange to Emma. She's stayed in one town her entire life, never even leaving to go to a store or something? Emma couldn't count the number of towns she'd been in. But maybe that was normal here.

"Are you visiting family or anything?" she said, still standing in front of the table. "Cause, you know, there aren't many other reasons to come to Storybrooke," said Ruby in a wistful tone while pulling out her notepad and pen.

"Nah, we're just passing through," replied Neal.

"Okay then. So what can I get you for drinks?"

Neal ordered a coffee. How he could drink the stuff, Emma had no idea. It tasted horrible to her, whether it kept her awake or not. She preferred hot chocolate for her caffeine kick, and always thought it tasted good with cinnamon. Which is exactly what she got.

"That's interesting," the waitress said, "I've only known one other person in town that orders it like that. You wouldn't happen to know a Mary Margaret, by any chance?"

"No. We've never been here before," said Emma, curious. She'd thought she was the only one who ever liked that particular combination. It was weird, how this other person, this Mary Margaret, would have the same habit as she did. It was an interesting coincidence.

"Ruby!"

A woman's yell came from the direction of what Emma assumed was the kitchen, accompanied by the sound of plates clinking against each other, and the waitress rolled her eyes."And that's my cue. That's my granny. She owns the diner. And the inn here too. By the way, if you're considering staying, the B&B is down the street. "

"Your grandma owns the inn?" said Emma. She supposed she'd probably be staying there again tonight, if there room was still vacant. And she would bet ten bucks that it was still vacant.

"Yeah. So I have to go. I'll get your drinks. "

She hurried away, as the person from the kitchen called her name again.

Emma thought Ruby seemed nice, if a bit talkative. Maybe they would've been friends, if it wasn't for the fact that they would be leaving as soon as the car was fixed. But it was a long shot. She didn't make friends easily.

Speaking of the car, it was going to have to be towed. It would have to be moved out of the mayor's driveway, although part of her wanted to just leave it there to see her reaction. The lady would throw a fit.

But that was out of the question, and would lead to fines for money that they really needed for other things. It would also call more attention to themselves than nescessary, and practically the number one rule of getting away with a theft-in her case, watches-was to not call more attention to yourself than nescessary. Come to think of it, mouthing off at the mayor was probably a bad idea. But it sure had been...interesting, to say the least.

After walking here, they could have gone straight to the repair place instead of coming here, but they were hungry. This place was in the middle of nowhere. It may be awhile before another town with a place to eat would cross their paths.

They could worry about all those things later. Right now, Emma was having breakfast with her boyfriend and she was going to enjoy it. They would then get the car(eventually) fixed and then they could leave the weird town in the middle of nowhere and be on their way, and never have to see it again. Or at least that's what she had told herself.

She had had her own doubts at times while on the road, though,when she worried that something would go horribly wrong.

But Neal had said that they were not to far away from Canada the night before, and he had made decent time. The car would probably only delay things.

You've been in worse places than this, Emma thought to herself. This really was nothing. You could be sitting in jail right now. But you aren't.

She was able to reassure herself, sitting there in the booth and waiting for the waitress to bring back her drink.

Her back was facing the door, and she didn't notice Regina walk in, go directly to the counter, and sit down on one of the stools, which was one of her favorite spots that nobody dared to cross.

Neither noticed one another for the entire time they sat in the diner. There was no second confrontation between the mayor and the newcomers. Not even a glance. Nobody's routine was further disrupted.

For now, anyway.


	6. Setbacks

Neither Emma nor Neal said a word as they exited the local repair shop and found themselves once again in the chilly outdoors, surrounded by the buildings and people of Storybrooke. Neither one said a word, creating a rare silence between them. Unsaid insecurities and worries swirled through their heads. All over something so simple. A car.

But it wasn't that simple. It was more than just a car. Aside from the sentimental value and all the memories it held, it was one of the few things they owned, and their sole method of transportation. There was no backup plan. That yellow car was it. And now they wouldn't be going anywhere at all.

Neal broke the quiet first, or at least tried to. "I swear, this car is out to get us," he said, trying to lighten the mood. He felt like he almost had to, for he hated getting upset over things that were, in the big picture of things, small.

Emma's lips twitched up a bit, although she replied, "It's not out to get us. Cars break down all the time." An almost undetectable hint of playful teasing could be heard in her voice as she said, "What? You think it's haunted or something?" But something else could be noticed in her as well. She, as most people would be in her situation, was not happy to say the least.

"Something like that," he replied before falling back into a silence.

They continued to move forward side by side, and Neal didn't want to bring up the inevitable question of what their next move was.

Emma beat him to it, voicing his thoughts exactly. "What are we going to do, Neal?" she said, dropping the happier, joking tone in an instant. She was upset with the situation to begin with, but she wanted to feel as if she was; like her problems would go away if she pretended they weren't there. But that wasn't true, not at all.

Thoughts of said problems wouldn't leave her head, what with the events being so recent.

They had had the car towed to what was apparently the only car repair shop in town after eating breakfast and had it looked at while they killed time for a few hours around town. It was easier said than done, what with there not being much to do in the first place.

The car had been looked at in an unusually short time, and they had been called back before lunchtime. The mechanic had figured out what was wrong with it. The engine had failed, the man had told them. It would need to be replaced, at a cost of over two thousand dollars, much more than either of them were expecting.

Emma repeated her question. "Neal. What're we going to do?"

"I'm...I'm not sure," he replied, thinking of no better answer.

The money just wasn't there. That they both knew. What remained of the watch money in the envelope wasn't nearly enough. Back when they had first started their road trip and thought they were going to Tallahassee, they had probably not been as smart with the money as they could have been. He wasn't used to having that much money, and they had gone a bit overboard in the very beginning with it, especially with food. As time passed, they learned to be more careful with it. But the damage had been done, and what remained was barely enough to get to Canada in the first place.

Now that this had come up, they were screwed, to put it bluntly. The police were more likely to find them if they remained in one town, but there was nothing else he could do. He finally said, "What do you think about staying here? I mean, not forever, but just until we get enough money to leave?"

"Won't they find us?"

"It's a small town. I really don't think we're America's Most Wanted around here. If there's anyplace to lay low until we get this fixed, it's here. They probably have no idea who we are," he said, trying to convince himself as well as Emma.

"But how'll we get the money? And no, we're not stealing it. Getting in trouble again is the last thing we need."

"I don't know. We'll figure something out. We always do."

"Yeah...I guess we do."

Emma paused before speaking up again. "So...we're staying here for awhile?" She still wasn't completely happy about how things had turned out, but there was nothing else they really could do. They were completely stranded.

"Yeah...I guess we are. Do you think that room at Granny's is still open? The place creeps me out, but it's somewhere," he replied, thinking about the way it had seemed like they were the only two people staying there at all last night.

"Somehow, I don't think that'll be a problem," she said as they turned the corner, again mimicking his thoughts exactly.

...  
October 23  
One Day Ago  
The room was silent. All of its windows were firmly closed and the curtains drawn, blocking out even the occasional honk of a car or yell that came from outside.

The closed windows also contributed to a darkness, a pitch black that not even the late evening sky could match. The only light came from a digital clock on the bedside table, numbers glowing a bright red and contrasting with the black around it. No sound came out of it, not even the gentlest of ticking or chiming, as the numbers silently changed, now showing the time to be 8:15.

The person lying down, the room's sole inhabitant, suddenly jolted upwards in that exact instant. Pulling off the bed sheets that covered his body, he ran a hand through his dark, messy hair.

His face contorted into a distressed expression, but he did not scream, for fear of waking the other people and causing attention to himself. He merely let out a series of small gasps and moans as he sat up, and proceeded to double over in the bed.

The pain that he had woken up to was almost impossible to describe. It felt like flames had covered his entire leg, burning and melting it into something else entirely. But even that description didn't entirely fit. He would take fire over this any day of the week.

Seconds passed like days as the man pressed his eyes shut, no other thoughts going through his head except make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!

And it did, after only a few moments. Once it had passed, the man opened his eyes tentatively, afraid to see what had happened to him. Even though, deep down, he already knew.

His worst fear was confirmed. Where flesh and blood had once been, the entire lower part of his leg had turned to wood. His heartbeat quickened, threatening to pound its way out of his ears, as his hand flew upwards to cover his mouth.

He knew what this meant. He'd known what was coming for a long time. But horror and surprise still ruled over his mind, as did a swirl of other thoughts and emotions that went through his head in an instant.

His time was up. He had failed in his one and only duty. He was turning back into the puppet he once was because of his actions.

He would die soon.

What would his father think of him now?

He, August Booth, once known as Pinnochio, had failed. He had been the total antithesis of "selfless, brave, and true" his entire life. He was a complete screw-up.

It was too late to fix things. Wasn't he supposed to have more time? Another chance?

No. He was being foolish. There were no second chances in this unforgiving, magicless, world.

Besides, why did he start to turn back so quickly? Emma wasn't supposed to break the curse for another ten years. Was she already in Storybrooke?

Yes, that must be it. She must have gone to Storybrooke. And he wasn't there for her. Time had already restarted, and the magic that had kept him alive for the first eighteen years of running from responsibility had began to run out. That was the conclusion that came to August quickly.

Emma wasn't where she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be in jail. Who knows what could happen now? Or what could happen to somebody who went against their destiny? Was the curse going to break soon? Had it started to weaken? If so, then maybe he could delay it somehow. Maybe if Emma left Storybrooke, then everything would go back to normal. He would live. The curse would break when it was supposed to.

His only question concerned how, exactly, she had made it to Storybrooke. August had managed to track her here, to Tallahassee, but after that, her whereabouts had been unknown. The only thing that he knew for sure was that her, and most likely Neal as well, had continued to evade police after his failed attempts to remove him from her life. But he was slippery, and had managed to cover their tracks well, probably changing their names.

This whole mess had begun two months ago in Portland, when he had tried to chase Neal down in the alleyway. After that had failed, he had formed another plan to separate the two, and had called the police in with an anonymous tip about Emma and the watches shortly afterwards, hoping to have them put in jail. Things were unclear after that, he only knew that they had gone on the run and haven't been arrested yet. They had apparently made a pit stop in Storybrooke on the way.

His methods may have been questionable, but they were nnescessary. There was a whole town of people cursed by Regina, and Emma would never realize her destiny and save them, and him, if she had came to Tallahassee with Neal.

But, he realized, he had succeeded after all. Emma was going to face her past, all because he had made that one all-important phone call. He had brought this entire thing on himself, messing up the timeline fate had laid out for Emma. God, he was such an idiot. He had finally decided to stop running and do what's right for Emma, and circumstances kept getting in the way. How did people expect him to be responsible if it was so difficult? It was unfair.

There was only one option. If he could find Neal in Storybrooke and convince him to leave Emma like he was supposed to in Portland, then things would go as planned. It shouldn't be too hard, considering the things he knew about Neal.

Yes. That was what he was going to do. He had found Storybrooke once before, a long time ago, and he could sure do it again.

He stood up next to the bed he had tiredly fallen asleep on for a nap only a few hours before, his terrible wooden leg already making it hard for him to walk, and began to gather his things from the room he'd rented while staying in Tallahassee. It wasn't even eight-thirty at night yet, and he wanted to start immediately.

He had a trip to Maine to plan. And fast.


	7. Machinations

A long time ago, somebody had once taught Regina the importance of names, over and over again. That if you knew nothing more than their name, you held an undeniable power over them. You would always remember it, it could never be taken away like money or land. If nothing else, you would always have at least one last measure of protection.

At the time, she hadn't fully believed him. Power couldn't be gained so easily, it had to be fought for. It took hard work and the using of one's talents to gain it-it wasn't something that could be handed over so easily, over something as simple and subtle as their name.

But at this particular moment, even she had to begrudgingly admit that her former mentor had been right, at least in the case of the new people in town. There was so much she didn't know about them. To her, they had the potential to become threats. They were dangerous. The wild cards in a game rigged in her favor.

And she didn't even know their names. Now, after all those years, she finally understood a use for what he had said. Without their names, she had no way of learning anything about them. And it wasn't as if she could just walk up to them and ask. If-God forbid-they had something to do with the Enchanted Forest, they may become suspicious. These were the people who had gotten past her barriers and potentially restarted time, after all. Dealing with them directly could get messy.

So she had to do go about it in a different way, one which led her to the foyer of Storybrooke's sole inn. She knew they were currently staying there-it didn't take much to find that out, for gossip had spread rather quickly about what was probably a monumental event to them-new people in town. All she had to do was ask around, and soon she knew where they were, although no names had come up.

She had been lead straight to Granny's Inn. Shocking. However, she didn't want to come here looking like an idiot only to find they weren't staying there at all. That was why she had gone through all the trouble last night of talking to people whom she would normally never talk to.

She could hear grandmother and granddaughter arguing amongst themselves-again-as her eyes slowly rolled up to the inn's ceiling in impatience. She couldn't see either person, but the yelling coming from the general direction of the nearby staircase leading up to the second floor alerted everyone in the vicinity of their presence. Not that there was anybody there to hear except for herself of course. The lobby was otherwise empty, which was a good thing.

She didn't want them to hold up her little visit and make her late to work. She did have a town to run after all, and her errand really shouldn't take much longer than a few minutes.

The two voices gradually grew quieter as they moved up the staircase; for they weren't aware of the mayor's presence and continued their daily fight.

"You were out all last night, Ruby! You knew you had work today!"

"I'm not a child anymore. Why is it so hard to imagine that? If I want to go out and have fun sometimes, is that so horrible?"

There was silence, and then the wolf girl-it was strange, that after all these years, Regina still thought of her as the "wolf girl", she thought to herself as she glanced at her watch-spoke again.

"I should've moved to Boston."

"Well, I'm sorry that my heart attack interfered with your plans to..."

The voices echoed off the walls, growing even quieter, and then became completely inaudible after the slam of a door. They had gone upstairs, far enough out of the way to allow Regina to do what she came here for.

She walked immediately to the tall but narrow wooden desk the grandmother usually stood behind when taking in visitors, the one that stood in front of a row of decorated room keys hanging on metal rings mounted on the wall. Out of the twelve rings, only one was empty.

She crouched down behind the desk, pulling one of its drawers open to reveal the dusty ledger book that held the names of every person who had ever come to stay in Storybrooke, which wasn't many.

She smiled, leather-gloved hands reaching forward and removing the book from the drawer, moving carefully so as not to get too much dust on her clothes. While still remaining crouched behind the desk, she opened the book and flipped through the age-yellowed but blank pages.

She stopped suddenly when she saw writing in the book, penned cursive letters forming names and dates and telling Regina exactly what she needed to know.

She mouthed the names in the book silently to allow herself to memorize them, then shut it and put it back in the drawer, remembering to close it and leave everything exactly as it was when she entered so as not to generate suspicion among the owner.

She then stood up, quickly coming out from behind the desk and exiting the inn before Miss Lucas, also known as Granny, or her granddaughter found out about her visit.

They didn't. Regina had came in and left after only a few minutes, and they were none the wiser. Sneaking around may have not been ideal, but she might not have given her the information Regina needed willingly, and that wasn't a chance she was willing to take.

She walked to her car to exit the inn, which she had parked on the side of the building so as not to be noticed. She climbed inside the driver's seat, although not yet bothering to do so much as put the key into the ignition. There was something she had to do first.

Instead, she reached down to the car floor to find her purse, pulling her cell phone out of one of its neatly organized compartments.

Flipping it open and dialing a number, she waited as the ringing began and ended after only two rings.

"Regina? Is that you?"

"Sidney? Yes. There's something I'd like you to do for me,"

"Of course," came the reply. "Name it, and I'll do it."

"Somebody's in town. Someone new. They were parked outside my house a few mornings ago, and they seem suspicious. What I want you to do is to find everything you can about the names Emma and Neal Sheppard. Databases, records, I don't care. Just find out who these people are and what they're doing here as soon as possible."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"That's why I'm coming to you."

There was a short pause before he spoke again, the determination in his voice clearly evident.

"I'll do it. By the time I'm done, you'll know everything you need to know about this person."

"I know I can count on you, can't I?" she said with a hint of fake sweetness.

"Of course."

"Thank you, Sidney."

She knew he would probably get done the thing that would be difficult and time-consuming for her to do herself-search the private databases for information on these people. He may not have been the most competent person around, but it was hard to find somebody as blindly loyal and determined as Sidney Glass.

While some people in Storybrooke, like the former genie himself, admired her, some disliked her, and some were outright scared of her. While she held a lot of power, she could never completely forget the fact that none of it was real. Absolutely nothing in the years since she cast the curse had been real. Everybody's opinion of her-and opinion in general-had been written into the curse.

She held more control over them than any of the residents of Storybrooke could even begin to comprehend. She had won her happy ending, wanting for nothing.

But returning to her large, empty house at night had left an aching loneliness in her heart ever since Owen had left. Her duties as mayor and...visits...with Sheriff Graham no longer distracted her enough to keep busy. And going through the same routine every day for years had left her growing bored and stagnant.

Although she tried to ignore it, there was a small part of her that secretly wished for something, anything, to change, and for her to not be alone anymore.

Well, she had gotten her wish. Something had changed in Storybrooke. The clock tower, which was visible from the empty spare room in the mansion, was still moving forward. Things had begun to shift, and while the changes were barely noticeable at this point, they could become more shaken up if not dealt with immediately. Her perfectly created world could come tumbling around her, and she would be left with truly nothing.

She would rather be lonely and bored than let that happen. The people in town, especially the girl, this Emma with her resemblance to Snow, had in fact brought change to Storybrooke, but not in the way Regina wanted. Emma, in the short time after entering Storybrooke, had managed to worry the mayor deeply.

Hopefully, she would be gone soon. Her and the other person and that stupid car. But just in case she decided to stay even longer, Regina would be one step ahead of her. She could possibly find something, anything, in the records that could confirm who she really was.

Either way, these people that had arrived in Storybrooke almost a week ago would not worry her for much longer. She would stop this as soon as possible before things got out of hand.

...

The shrill ringing of the phone in Regina's pocket went off without warning, breaking the otherwise quiet room. Its dark color matched the sleek blacks, whites, and the occasional hints of red of the Mayor's personal office, where she sat doing daily paperwork. She was almost done for the day, and she would soon return to the mansion for the night.

Regina had a feeling about who it was, seeing as they had called her cell during work hours rather than the regular phone on her desk where all job-related calls went. She fished it out of her pocket and answered on the first ring, her voice lacking in her usual professionalism.

"Hello?"

"Yes? It's Sidney."

Her voice lowered. It was about time he called. "You're late. Well?"

"I believe you're going to be very pleased, Regina. It took some time, but I did some searching, and as it turns out..."

"What did you find?"

"I was just about to tell you that. As I was saying, I found some interesting things in the records about these people. Apparently, the girl, Emma, was abandoned as a baby, left on the side of a freeway, which wasn't too far from here, and was found by a seven-year-old-boy. This was about eighteen years ago, almost to the day. After that, she went into the foster system. Did you know she went through fifteen different foster homes throughout her entire childhood? She never seemed to stay in one place for long. Anyway, she left at age sixteen, and..."

"Is there anything else?"

"I was getting to that. After she left the foster system, a few months ago, she became involved in a watch heist. Helped cover up the other person's crime. Neal Cassidy is his full name. As of now, they are both wanted by police and have changed their names. That's why it took so long for me to get this information," Sidney continued. The excitement was audible in his voice, as if he had discovered gold instead of hard-to-locate records. As editor of the Storybrooke Mirror, the only newspaper in town, there was nothing he loved more than finding a good story. Which was a difficult thing to do in a town like this.

A smirk slowly spread across Regina's face. "You've proven to be very valuable, Sidney."

"Why...um, thank you, and..."

She snapped the phone shut, her head practically spinning with the information she'd learned.

This girl was abandoned on a freeway. As a baby. Eighteen years ago. Around the time she cast the curse that brought everyone here to begin with. Almost the exact same day. And now she's back.

If there were any doubts about who she was, they had been eradicated. Emma may not look like much of anything, but she could be the one who would take away everything she had.

If the people here remembered who they really were, they would be out for blood. They would kill her, or imprison her. They would lock her in a cell somewhere away from their sight. She would be alone, with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company. They would tell her how she failed to win even one time. How she failed to avenge Daniel's death, even after all these years. How she failed to do anything right. The thoughts would swirl around her head repeatedly as she sat in a cell until her end, powerless, while the people who made her the way she was walked free.

No. That wasn't going to happen. That would require her to accept defeat. And she would never do such a thing.

Besides, she had the advantage. She now possessed more knowledge about the people than she expected to find. As it turned out, they had apparently gotten into some trouble before coming here. This would be too easy.

Someday, maybe she would give into the emptiness she felt and do something about it, but that day was not today. The new people who had came to Storybrooke and had gotten under her skin from the moment she met them would be in jail-or would flee town, at least-very shortly.

She had been toying with the idea of adopting a child to raise as her own for awhile now. Maybe after order had been restored, she would do just that. She'd finally have somebody who would love her without knowledge of her past, and would fill the void left by the curse. Even if she wasn't considered to be "mother material" by some. She could create a happy ending all her own.

She would fix the only obstacle in her plan soon. Tomorrow morning, she would pay those people a special visit.


End file.
